The Golden State
by weasleywheezes
Summary: Oz deals with the aftermath of his breakup with Willow.


The Golden State

By weasleywheezes

DISCLAIMER:  I am not affiliated with Mutant Enemy, WB, UPN, or anything else having to do with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

SPECIAL THANKS TO:  satanslut, as always, for her unwavering support of my talents and her pimping of my stories. Also, thank you to everyone who enjoyed "In A Song" – I hope you enjoy this story as much.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those not familiar with state nicknames, California is known as The Golden State.

~~

He had to get out of the Golden State.

It seemed so cold outside. Nothing was as it had been when he was with her. A gentle breeze now seemed like a bitter wind, the soft splash of raindrops now seemed like endless, faceless tears. The sun no longer shined on him, the warm heat of those pleasant California days now felt like a punishing blister to remind him of all he had lost.

He didn't sleep much anymore. Instead, he roamed around Sunnydale in his van, watching people, the stars fixed above him, the beauty of everything around him. It was a cool beauty, though, and nothing warmed him anymore. That bright, Technicolor world of happiness had faded to grays. Nothing could take her place. She was the fire in his heart, the thing inside that kept him going. He _loved_ her. Didn't that mean anything to her?

The lack of sleep started to get to him. The purplish-black stain of exhaustion painted his eyes, his skin was wan and his bones ached. Was it lovesickness – or lycanthropy? He didn't know, and truthfully didn't care. He looked at the world through dark eyes. Even music, once his favored mistress, had lost her luster. Every time he got onstage, he felt as though she should be standing there, cheering him, smiling at him, loving him. But instead of her large doe eyes, porcelain skin and russet hair, he saw the cold, angry stare of disaffected youth; cattle, really, chewing his lyrics like so much cud.

He wrote lyrics that seemed depressing, almost morbid. It appealed to the tragic youth in the crowd, but to him, it was a constant wound. It seemed that every night, he had to rebreak a bone to set it. The anguish was that real, that raw inside of him. He hated it, but there was nothing else he could fix his mind upon. There was nothing now but Willow. There was nothing but the pain.

It made him sick to his stomach. The last time he had seen her and her lover…ugh. _Her lover_. _He_ was her lover. _He_ was the one who knew her unlike anyone else, the one whose soul sparked with hers, not that dishwater blonde. He couldn't get that horrible milieu out of his mind, standing in the school hallway, waiting for Willow to come out. When the realization hit that his girl was with…god, he could remember the smell. It was all over her. She seemed to have absorbed her essence like a sponge. His keen canine-like sense of smell couldn't distinguish the difference between his love and this stranger. The scent was almost palpable on his tongue. He wanted to spit the scent of this girl out of his mouth. He didn't believe it at first. Not Willow, not _his_ girl. Not with _her_. It wasn't supposed to be that way. It was Willow and Oz, Oz and Willow, Beauty and the Beast.

He felt so betrayed, but he knew that his Willow would have never meant to hurt him. It wasn't in her to be cruel. She was a child of truth, and only the truth. The truth was what she gave him when she said that she was in love with her. He tried to make himself feel better about the situation. _Willow left you for a woman, not a man. At least there's not another man holding your girl._ But somehow it made him feel even more pathetic and worthless. The beat of his heart was holding another woman. It ate him up inside.

He briefly thought about devouring that meddlesome girl. _Tara?_ Wasn't her name _Tara?_ Every time he said her name, it felt like a knife twisted in his gut. It was difficult to control his animal self during anger, and that's all he felt toward her. For a moment, he thought about consuming her in a wolfish rage, picking pieces of her out of his teeth with his great claws, and then Willow could be his again. But he quickly rid his mind of that gruesome fantasy. No matter what he did, he knew it was too late.

That last moment with her was almost more than he could bear. She had sat in the passenger seat, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, telling him that she cared for him, she still loved him, but that she loved Tara more. It wasn't something she had planned, and that she was sorry. Sorry was all she could say. Not please stay, not I want to make it work with you, not I realize that I love you more than anyone else.

_Sorry._

Oz replied that he had to be on his way. He stayed somewhat stoic through the whole ordeal. No matter what, he had to be the strong one. He was still Oz and she was still Willow. He didn't want to make it any more difficult for her than it obviously was. The little tears running down her face killed him. It left him with a dull ache in his bones.__

When she left the van, he drove away and didn't look back. When he turned the corner, he pressed on the accelerator and drove like a hell bent madman. As soon as he couldn't see the lights of town, he pulled over onto the side of the road and broke down. It had been the first time he had really wept. Nothing could have been different, he thought. It's the way of Nature. Some people grow, some don't. Some people are merely people, and some are werewolves. He knew better than most people that you never choose the things that bring you pain, and he knew that this was as painful for Willow as it was for him. But Willow had become different. Willow had changed just as he had changed, and it was that change that broke them apart.

Oh god, he had to get out of the Golden State.


End file.
